"Julia, are you still in your room?"
"Yes!"
"Your brother will be here soon!"
"I know!"
Julia turned her attention back to her desk.
The sheets of paper resting on it were neatly organized.
Holes had been punched along one edge of the stack, and a thick cord was threaded through them, allowing the pages to be turned freely.
This thing her brother called a 'notebook' was far more convenient than the cumbersome papyrus scrolls she used in her lessons.
Dipping her quill into the inkwell, Julia began to write.
"I wonder when Father will return."
She began to set down her thoughts on the page.
Writing a daily journal like this had been Lucius's suggestion.
It gave her a chance to sort through the day and settle her thoughts.
As she continued to write, her mind drifted to another task.
"I need to copy that down before I forget it."
Like most of her peers, Julia had very little interest in philosophy.
What she truly loved was Greek poetry, epic tales, and the stories of mythic heroes.
"Sing, Goddess, of the rage of Peleus' son Achilles, the accursed rage that brought countless agonies upon the Achaeans, and hurled down to Hades many brave souls of heroes..."
Julia began copying the text from the papyrus scroll her Greek tutor had brought earlier that day onto her fresh paper.
From Homer's Iliad and Odyssey to the works of Hesiod, Plautus, and Ennius, she loved them all.
She devoured everything from Greek tragedy to Latin poetry.
Cornelia wasn't particularly thrilled about her daughter becoming so engrossed in literature, but Lucius felt quite differently.
He frequently gifted her rare papyrus scrolls, and recently, he had brought her this notebook made of his newly invented 'paper.'
"As the generation of leaves, so is that of humanity. The wind scatters the leaves on the ground, but the living tree puts forth fresh leaves again...."
"Copying the Iliad today?"
Startled by Lucius's sudden voice, Julia quickly spun around.
"When did you sneak in?"
"Why don't you try reading it silently in your head, like I taught you?"
"It's more comfortable for me to read out loud," Julia replied with a smile.
Lucius was always proposing the oddest things.
Reading words without speaking them aloud, or leaving physical spaces between sentences... It all felt unnatural—and yet, somehow, more natural too.
"Is mother still angry with me?"
"A little bit," Julia answered.
Her mother had been furious when she found out Lucius had visited Brutus's house alone.
"She said you've only just been formally betrothed, and going over there might stir up nasty rumors."
"I didn't go there to see Servilia. Brutus practically dragged me there himself."
"Cato's nephew, right?"
"He takes after his uncle in some ways and yet he's completely different in other ways. I've never met anyone who loves books as much as he does..."
Lucius trailed off, walking over to her desk.
He picked up one of the loose sheets of paper.
"Did you write this one yourself?"
"Yes. I tried to imitate the style of the Greek poets."
"Ah, poetry written in dactylic hexameter, just like Ennius. This is exceptionally well-written, Julia. I could never write like this."
Julia felt her cheeks grow hot.
She had never shown her original poetry to anyone else before.
"It doesn't matter. No one cares to read works written by women anyway."
"What about Sappho of Greece? Or Corinna, Erinna, Telesilla, and Anyte?" Lucius replied with a chuckle.
"Plato himself said Socrates learned from Aspasia, didn't he? Who knows? Perhaps you'll become the new Aspasia."
"I'm nowhere near that good yet."
Julia abruptly stood up and snatched the paper out of Lucius's hand.
"Why did you come to my room, anyway?"
"I didn't realize a brother needed an excuse to visit his sister."
Lucius gave a casual shrug.
Just like her father, Lucius always had a mischievous, playful streak.
"But I suppose I do have a reason today. You mentioned a few weeks ago that it was a shame we hadn't been spending much time together lately."
"Aren't you working today?"
"I snuck out while Felix wasn't looking. Besides, I just thought of something incredibly fun we could do."
With a bright smile, Lucius pointed at her stack of blank paper.
"Do you want to build a toy out of paper?"
"A toy? Made of paper?"
***
"Wow! Look at that!"
"Yeah, it really flies high."
I nodded, watching Julia run excitedly across the field.
The breeze was cool and steady—absolutely perfect weather for this.
We weren't the only ones strolling through the southern end of the Campus Martius.
Further north came the rhythmic cries of patricians at exercise and soldiers at drill, but down here, it was one of the few places in Rome where citizens could take their ease.
"Be careful not to let it fly too high, or the string might snap."
I stood up from the grass and picked up my own toy.
It was the simplest form of a kite, constructed from thin wooden splints and sturdy paper.
I hadn't expected to enjoy it this much.
Tossing it into the wind, the kite immediately caught the updraft and soared into the sky.
Julia and I stood side by side, firmly gripping our spools of string as we watched the kites dance and weave through the air.
"This is so much fun! I had no idea paper could fly this high...." Julia continued.
"Do you think if we made a really big one, it could carry a person?"
"Probably. In theory, at least."
I couldn't help but chuckle.
I vaguely remembered stories of people using giant kites in war.
There were some historical records of people using massive kites to infiltrate besieged castles.
"But the moment the wind dies down, you'd plummet straight to the ground."
"I want to test it with a scarecrow next time."
"A scarecrow sounds like a much safer test subject."
I gently tugged on the string, adjusting the kite's altitude.
There was something universal about kite-flying.
In Greece and China, flying kites during major festivals and ceremonies was a long-standing tradition.
There was something mesmerizing to watch an object soar through the sky.
As if to prove it, a massive crowd had already gathered around us.
"Wait, isn't that Lucius Caesar?"
"What in the gods' names is that thing?"
"It's a square thing, and it's flying!"
"Isn't that made of papyrus?"
"So the rumors that Caesar invented a new kind of papyrus were true?"
"By Jupiter, maybe we'll be able to ride those things around the city soon!"
Excited, bewildered whispers echoed through the crowd.
Honestly, listening to them, you'd think I had invented a magic carpet.
I had only built the kites to spend some quality time with Julia, but this was actually turning out to be the perfect advertisement for my paper.
I smiled and waved over the group of children who were staring up at the kites in open awe.
"Come here, I'll let you try flying it."
"Really?!"
The children hesitated for a split second before their curiosity quickly overcame, and they eagerly swarmed around me.
"Alright, you use this string to steer the paper. Don't let it all unspool at once. You have to gently pull and release it to catch the wind..."
As more and more kids gathered around, I somehow ended up like a fairground handler.
But surprisingly, it was actually a lot of fun.
And it wasn't just the kids; the adults were still staring up at the kites with shock and amazement.
Just then, a familiar voice cut through the chatter.
"Lucius, so this is where you were."
I turned my head.
My mother was standing there, looking back and forth between me and the kites.
"I heard you dragged Julia out to the Campus Martius, but what on earth have you gotten yourself into this time?"
"It's nothing serious, mother. I just attached some string to some paper."
"Here. Read this."
Mother sighed heavily and handed me a papyrus scroll.
"Who sent this?"
"It's from your father."
"Ah. Come to think of it, it should be about time for him to return to Rome."
The Senate had recently decided to move the consular elections forward to July.
The elections would be held early, and the victors would officially assume office in January of the following year.
My father was planning to run for consul this year.
He was probably finishing his affairs in Hispania right now.
As I unrolled the scroll and began to read, I flinched before I could stop myself.
Wait. What was this?
This absolutely had not happened in the timeline I remembered.
I snapped my head up and looked at mother.
"Is this real?"
"I know your father has a habit of exaggerating, but he isn't the type to lie about something of this magnitude."
"I suppose that's true."
While the children continued to laugh and play with the kites, I read through the scroll again slowly.
"The Gallaeci, the Lusitani, and even the rebels of the Herminius Mountains..."
The scroll listed the names of countless local Hispanian tribes that had fiercely resisted Roman rule for decades.
"He crushed all of them? I can hardly believe it."
He had effectively pacified the entirety of the Iberian Peninsula.
How in the world had he pulled that off?
***
Hispania had long been a bleeding thorn in Rome's side.
Ever since Carthage established colonies there, the massive wealth of the Iberian silver and gold mines had funded the Carthaginian war machine.
Even after Rome emerged victorious in the Punic Wars, the local tribes of Hispania violently refused to submit to Roman rule.
During the Marian-Sullan civil wars, Marian loyalists had entrenched themselves in Hispania, continuing their bloody resistance. Even after Pompey Magnus marched in and brutally crushed them, the embers of rebellion had never fully died out.
However, over the past few months, Hispania had been stabilizing at a rapid pace.
And the man single-handedly orchestrating it was none other than Gaius Julius Caesar.
"Hispania will continue to export massive quantities of olive oil to Rome, generating astronomical profits. And that prosperity will flow directly into your cities as well."
Caesar stood before an assembly of city magistrates and tribal chieftains.
"This sudden demand for Palmolive oil has created an unprecedented market. This is a rare chance for all of you."
"What exactly are you proposing?"
"If Hispania cannot guarantee stability, Rome will have no choice but to source its olive oil from elsewhere," Caesar said, his voice calm, but firm.
"There are already countless ambitious men across Italy and Sicily eager to seize that market."
"..."
The local elites of Hispania exchanged uneasy glances.
The vast majority of their personal wealth came from the latifundia—the massive agricultural estates that produced the region's olive oil.
Just as Caesar said, the recent Palmolive boom had brought them immense wealth.
"Provide me with auxiliary cohorts to eradicate the remaining rebel strongholds. I swear to you, I will treat them with the exact same respect and honor as Roman legionaries."
Faced with the threat of losing their golden goose, the Hispanian elites finally relented, agreeing to mobilize a massive auxiliary force for Caesar.
Normally, no matter how many times a Roman governor demanded troops, they would find endless reasons not to comply. But now, their own immense profits were directly on the line.
Armed with this massive influx of fresh manpower, Caesar immediately launched a sweeping campaign to crush the remaining resistance.
But sheer numbers were not what truly secured his victory.
"You are not fighting merely for the glory of Rome! You are fighting to secure the future of your fellow men of Hispania!"
Caesar roared, addressing the assembled ranks of the Hispanian auxiliary legions.
"Your chieftains have already promised you discharge pay and fertile land when your service is done! Those who fight with unmatched valor will receive even greater bounties from my own hands!"
Having secured promises of lavish rewards for the soldiers through their chieftains, Caesar immediately ordered the advance.
"Any tribe that bows to Rome and pays us proper respect will be completely exempt from taxation for the next three years! But if you choose to continue this futile resistance, I will have no choice but to treat you as enemies of Rome!"
Realizing the tide of the war had irreversibly turned, the rebel tribes began to surrender one by one.
And finally, the entirety of Hispania—a region that had violently bled Rome for decades—was finally brought to heel by Gaius Julius Caesar.
"Imperator! Imperator! Imperator!"
Standing before the assembled, roaring legions on the parade grounds, Caesar thrust his sword high into the air.
Amidst the deafening, earth-shattering cheers, he screamed at the top of his lungs.
"Comrades! Rome awaits us!"